


This Love Won't Let Me Go

by lakemonsters



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Attraction, Crushes, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Ficlet Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-05
Updated: 2014-03-05
Packaged: 2018-01-14 21:11:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 10,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1278958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lakemonsters/pseuds/lakemonsters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a collection of ficlets that are not exactly related but belong to the same 'universe'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Atobe Keigo liked to stand at the edge of the rooftop of his building, the junior to Atobecorp. 

The structure stood 45 floors above the ground and impressive height from all angles. It took the heir high enough to hear nothing but the quiet hum of heaven, above the noise of trivial things. A place where he could rid himself of structure and hierarchy - and set free dreams beyond dreams beyond dreams that were not his own. Freedom from duty even for a few minutes. A feeling of detachment comforted him each time he watched the world from that certain perspective. An edge to see things beforehand. Atobe lived in a reality where people like him made things happen and molded society to his advantage. It set him apart yet left him somewhat, lonely. 

The cliche rang true after all. 

 

"Shouldn't you be at a meeting?" Tezuka's spoke clear and calm. The heir looked behind him and spied his tennis consultant in muted tones, hair as messy as the day he met him, countenance somber and unbreakable. Better than a porcelain mask, because Tezuka wore not a damaged facade, though everything else about him corroded in secret.

"They work for me. I'll go down when I want." Atobe's eyes were steel as he stepped down from the ledge.

"Don't shoot the messenger." The taller man shrugged, obvious that he had passed by Atobe's office and spoke to his secretary. He slid his hand in his pocket and took out his cigarette packet and lighter.

"Ah, but why are you early? I told you the we'd make it a lunch meeting." The heir stepped away from the wind's direction to avoid the smell of smoke.

"My other appointment finished early." Tezuka's words were even and he took a moment to exhale, mindful of his poison. He knew that Atobe found the habit disgusting, but then Tezuka needed an anesthetic of some sort to dull some pains that he'd never talk about. 

The heir snorted and looked away. "The meeting downstairs, it's nothing but a formality. Assets, liabilities, market trends." he spoke to himself mostly and Tezuka was nothing but collateral damage within hearing range. And in a way Atobe found their amicable coexistence - sad. He did not know why.

Tezuka understood portions of what Atobe said. But he gave it little thought, his gaze remained on Tokyo's skyline, jagged with the tips of skyscrapers. His role in Atobe's life remained in the courts of a game that used to be his life, that was now his job and one of Atobe's recreational activities. Somewhere in that line of transitions, someone lost his way and he picked up strange habits to fill in the gaps.

"Don't tell me things I can do nothing about." Tezuka took another puff of his cigarette and flicked away the ashes.

"I'll tell you anything I want." The fact that Atobe stood as Tezuka's highest paying client remained unsaid. The fact that he hired an amateur even if could afford the best remained a mystery. Atobe anted to ask when and where Tezuka picked up the filthy habit.

"As it is. You're my only client after all." His jaw clenched.

Atobe watched and a ghost of a smile passed his lips. How jaded... 

Smoke strayed close enough for him to inhale and he did so...for it was small punishment for certain things. The question about Tezuka's habit died in his throat. The outline of Tezuka's sleeve - crooked and bent - enough to silence his curiousity. "I'll leave you to your cigarettes. Meet me at the executive dining room in an hour." 

Tezuka nodded but did not speak, only listened to leather shoes traverse the smooth concrete. As it had always been, Atobe walked in precise steps - poised and postured like princes should be. And in his mind's eye - junior high seemed like another life, lived by another person that looked like him but not quite.

The heir stopped by the door , pondered and looked back. There stood his tennis consultant against the backdrop of a vast horizon. Tezuka's legend seemed so small. 

And for some reason Atobe wanted to protect him, should the sky fall without warning. 

 

Atobe fumed in silence. 

He'd been in the private section of the EDR (executive dining room) for fifteen minutes and there was no sign of Tezuka. He was torn equally. Part of Atobe was smug enough to say that his time was important and shouldn't be wasted, the other part worried far more than necessary. He looked across the table - the empty seat - disturbed Atobe to no end, and so he stood and ignored the questioning looks of the waiters.

It was better to look, first, where he'd seen him last.

He opted to use his private elevator that would carry him to the 44th floor, he'd have to climb two flights of stairs to get to the rooftop. He silently calculated the minutes, and barely noticed the rain that fell outside, the thick slabs of fiber glass muted the sound to almost nothing. Only when he ascended the stairs did he notice the sound of water, the empty floor - the his footfalls against the steps, drowned in its wake.

Atobe stopped in front of the steel door that opened to the rooftop. He pushed. The resistance he met made his heart sink, the panel was locked -- from the inside.

Atobe's actions were immediate, because he knew every bit of this building by heart, he pulled at the latch and with great effort pushed - only to be met by a strong gust of wind and sharp slates of rain. 

Eyes darted from left to right. And in that gray haze he found what he was looking for. Tezuka stood by the side of the building, arms crossed over his chest, huddled in what little shelter it could offer. It took him a few seconds before he could move. 

The image of Tezuka's fragility frightened Atobe. 

At the moment he started walking towards Tezuka, the other lifted his head, and their eyes met. Atobe could read the message. The other would never say it, but then 'help' had such heavy letters for a small word.

Atobe took off his coat and wrapped Tezuka with it, surprised that the other did not protest, nor did he move. "Tezuka, let's go inside." the realization that the other was a little disoriented settled. With greater effort he pulled Tezuka, tried to direct him towards the open door. 

He prodded a bit more before Tezuka relented.

 

"This is certainly one of those anti-comedic moments...funny yet not funny..." the heir's words were gentle as he tried his best to wipe Tezuka's face with the lining of his Bergamo coat. He masked his guilt, maybe he had accidentally locked the door. "We should get you downstairs. I have extra clothes, you can shower in my changing room."

The offer was met with silence, and the minutes fell thick and slow before Tezuka betrayed movement. 

He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes softly. "It wasn't your fault. The door swayed open then slammed shut because of the winds." In a way Atobe felt vindicated. And he watched Tezuka stretch his left arm slowly, and then he wished that vindication applied everywhere else.

"Of course it wasn't my fault. I left that door open. And really, you should change to dry clothes." Atobe regained a bit of his senses and pushed the issue.

"I'm sorry. I missed the meeting." Serious as ever.

"Obviously, it was not your fault." Atobe dismissed the apology. His usually-perfect hair was damp against his forehead, forcing the heir to push them away carefully. 

Tezuka thought of things to say and ended up with two words. 

"Stop worrying."

"Who said I was worried?" Atobe narrowed his eyes.

"You did. Your face says it all." Tezuka shrugged.

"You're an ass, you know that?" Atobe huffed and stood up, and realized a bit too late that leather and water didn't quite get along. The smooth soles of his shoes skid over the steps and forced him back --way back-- right into Tezuka's arms. Reflex was such a strange thing.

"Now who needs saving?" Tezuka asked, his face an inch away from Atobe's.

"Shut up." Atobe replied half-hearted and a little breathless. 

 

The kiss that followed was rather understated - lips gentle and a shy tongue pried Atobe's mouth open. It was a dance to music that they barely heard. And Tezuka's fingers that ghosted over Atobe's wet shirt spoke of history - their on again, off again, on again - history that badly needed a spark. A flicker of a flame, that came in the form of water.

Tezuka let Atobe go when the need for air became apparent. And then he stood, hovered over the heir. "Did you hire me because of pity?"

It took a while for Atobe to focus on the question, then he stood carefully, and made sure told onto the hand rails. "Maybe. I don't know."

Tezuka turned to go back up to the roof.

"Tezuka~! It's raining, what the hell are you doing?"

"I'm soaked anyway, it doesn't matter." It was a pride thing. 

Atobe would never admit to follow anyone. But in a moment's time he stood beside Tezuka, and braved the elements. "Look, I saw your name and that was it. Honest. I wasn't thinking of anything. I just saw your name and that's all. I swear."

Tezuka looked at him, eyes without glasses, brown pools that deepened to black under the circumstances. "My name?"

"Your name." Atobe nodded.

Caught in the middle of a slow storm with distant thunder rolling above them. They stood quietly side by side. Tezuka took Atobe's hand in his. Acceptance and apology all in one. Even as the grayness let up and slants of sunlight speared through clouds. 

To Atobe, it was just part of the bigger picture made up by details. Like warmth in rain and a smile on Tezuka's face.


	2. Endless

Laying on his side Tezuka wonders when the bandages will come off. And he lifts his left arm and winces a bit from the pain. He thinks himself flighty, because once the bandages are taken off, he's sure to wonder when they'll come right back on again. Because it's a cycle: the hospital, the therapy, the operation and the frustration.

 

Always in the brink of...and never truly getting there. It is taking forever to recover. There's no emotion behind his gaze, just curiousity. When such an absurd term like -forever- suddenly means something. Time is indeed strange.

"Kunimitsu, phone call." One knock and a quipped tone from his mother. He stands to pick up the extension.

"Tezuka."

"..."

 

This may be the 128th call in the span of who knows how long. A speck in the face of todays and tomorrows. Like a cycle of break-ups and reconciliations; on again and off again. This last fight is no different. It's taking forever to perfect. This relationship is like the first legacy Atobe gave him. Injury.

"Tezuka, can you hear me?"

Tezuka wonders why he comes calling yet again.

"Hello, Atobe."

Tezuka barely knows why, but he answers just the same. When hello just really means I'm sorry and goodbye should mean what it means. 

_This love won't let me go..._

A smile. "How are you?" Atobe's voice is clear like the sky on cloudless days.


	3. Marvelous To Be Wrong

The beach stretched on for what seemed like miles. It mirrored the water in a parallel race to forever. 

The sky above them was gray for the sun was too lazy to get up just yet. There was beauty before daylight and the waves were kind enough to run with them, rolling with effortless grace, accompanying them in a journey that was endless. Tezuka ran closer to the sea, his jogging pants drizzled with splashes of water that he didn't seem to care about at that particular moment. His eyes were focused - always staring ahead knowing the destination. 

Atobe seemed to glide instead of run, his path farther upon the shore, jogging pants speckled with displaced sand that he didnít seem to mind just yet. His eyes moved and observed the here and now. The present was a good specimen. They stopped for air somewhere in the middle, both vindicated from stress, and the reality of freedom within armís reach. They had both learned to distrust the impossible.

"How does it feel being 24?"

Atobe looked at his partner and reached out to hold the hem of his shirt. It earned him a tiny smile that passed like a ghost on the taller man's lips before Tezuka leaned closer for a kiss. 

Ten years ago they both thought that this would not be possible. 

Ten years on and it felt marvelous to be wrong.


	4. Our Sunset

Tezuka likes to run in the morning. There was nothing like weaving through the streets towards the park when Tokyo was still drowsy. It always made him feel like he was a step closer to the sun as she radiates with her first offering of light something tangible but not quite.

Their match happened midday and it washed them both clean of energy and drive both knew that one had lost and one had won, though it didn't quite make sense under the assault of light. Tezuka thought that the sky was too high that day. An hour later they saw each other at the lockers. Tezuka spoke of nothing, while Atobe spoke of everything but the game. 

"Do you have plans this afternoon?" Atobe asked, his usual pageantry lacing each syllable. Tezuka paid no mind at the ache of his shoulder. He shook his head.

Atobe likes to run in the evening. 

There was nothing like weaving (followed by a bodyguard or two) through the streets towards the park when Tokyo was coming alive and the thrum of her heartbeat has set a pace for him to follow. It always made him feel like he was flying to the sun as she gives out her last burst of energy something tangible but not quite.

"Then let's go." 

The heir cocked his head towards the exit, where the afternoon started to give way to the evening. 

They weren't friends, they weren't enemies. 

That afternoon Atobe taught Tezuka to run towards the sunset.


	5. Vast Spaces

Atobe agreed to climb this mountain with Tezuka. 

That was a fact and never in Tezuka's dreams did he expect the heir to accept his invitation. A thought sprung from nowhere, spoken in an abrupt manner during one of the casual phonecalls. There was that inexplicable something, that made him do it. They'd gone past junior high and was now preparing for the next chapter of their lives. College was so close they could taste it. 

Both agreed that some time off would benefit them both greatly.

"Truly magnificent, like me." Atobe pondered as he watched the scenery before him, and he surmised that it was like looking at a mirror. Magnificence reflected multiplied by two and all that. It made climbing this slope worth it. 

The view was breath taking. Vast and unbound, blue skies feathered with clouds that weaved through never ending roll of wind. Atobe felt like he'd conquered something like the sky, this mountain. Though all this was indomitable, the heir decided that he could pretend that he could grasp, hold them in his hands. Even his magnificence had limitations but Atobe told himself that nobody had to know that.

"Glad you agreed to come?" Tezuka crouched beside him surveying the planes that stretched to meet the horizon. A gust of wind blew past them, making everything in its path seem divine. The taller boy spied Atobe pushing some fringes from his face a serene expression settling upon his countenance. Tezuka did not ponder much, but decided that it was something he wanted to remember.

It was then that he stood as he noticed the green fields below. No matter how high he climbed Tezuka always preferred to look where he had been, because a dream had to end at some point, right? He glanced calmly at Atobe and wondered what it was like to see all this through his eyes. 

"My decisions are always well thought out, thus turn out good." He smirked weakly and moved away from Tezuka to walk to the other side and watch the view from there. The intervals at which they spoke around had successfully frustrated the heir for some reason. It was a lie of course. Partially. They both knew that decisions were something they traversed on instinct more often than not, when push came to shove and their pride as players and as individuals came into focus. Atobe knew this through and through. Because things changed after their fateful match, it was close to impossible not to forget the thrill, the pain and the satisfaction of being able to play against someone that returned one's tenacity in equal force.

The heir knew that it was absurd to build anything on a single match because even if they were equals on the courts, the great divide lingered and life would never truly be fair. Yet they persisted as themselves, sans the roles they had to play. 

Tezuka took out his binoculars and walked to where Atobe was, and handed him the apparatus without much ceremony. 

"What's this for?" An unnecessary question, yet the heir felt the need to ask, not for the sake of asking but because there was a sudden need for conversation. 

He'd faced this crisis before, having spent time with Tezuka in genial circumstances. And in all those times he had suffocated from the silence. There was too many things unsaid between them. It was enough to cramp spaces and steal air. And as much as he enjoyed this menagerie -- Atobe just wanted to hear all of it, to speak of it just like everyone else. But then again this is Tezuka, he would fly away at the slightest hint of being cornered. And it would be a waste to put this longstanding dance to an end. It's better than nothing. Atobe begrudgingly told himself.

"So you can see the view better." Tezuka's gaze was fixed on the horizon.

"I have perfect vision." Atobe retorted snidely, a playful smile on his lips.

"You know what I meant." Tezuka looked at him, lips pursed but not grim.

"I don't think I do." Atobe pushed forth with teasing though he had raised his hand and was now looking through the binoculars.

"Clearer isn't it?" the boy with glasses asked his voice soft and to Atobe's ear it sounded unsure.

"It's the same Tezuka, only..." he waved the binoculars nonchalantly "...things look nearer, within reach." 

Atobe then handed the binoculars back to Tezuka who took it carefully and nodded his head. Atobe watched him with a helplessness that he always felt when it came to the other boy. Not fragility. Not desperation. He felt that he could never reach what was inside Tezuka that he could never touch the obvious because Tezuka kept his whole being in a glass jar. And it hurt- to look from the outside. Each time he's faced with this realization the space between them seemed to grow wider and Atobe feared that one day they would have to end this.

Tezuka's eyes were fixed somewhere, anywhere but Atobe. Why was it so hard to breathe? But in an act of impulse he turned to the heir raising the binoculars to his eyes. This did not escape Atobe and he moved to face Tezuka fully.

It's the same Tezuka, only with this, things look nearer, within reach.

What Atobe said was true. 

"What do you see, Kunimitsu?" The pompous tone was dropped, replaced with a hint of sincerity mixed with danger as his name was said, and it made Tezuka hold the binoculars tighter.

"Keigo." He spoke the name soulfully and was all that he said, for it was all he saw. He lowered his hand and met the gaze, his eyes did not blink. 

"Kunimitsu, what are you going to do?" the heir asked quietly because he knew how Tezuka felt, knew what the taller boy wanted and all he had to do was reach out and it would all be his.

And there were no words that would suffice to describe what Tezuka wanted. He threw caution in the wind as he pulled Atobe flush against him, surprised that he didn't even have to stretch his arm at full length to be able to touch him. Tezuka spoke his desire and it was said eloquently in the way the tips of his fingers pressed against Atobe's jugular counting the pulse that beat against the heir's skin. Their kiss fervent in tongues bridging and moving kinetic energy consuming. Tezuka nudging the heir to give a bit more, because at this point he felt like he could not get enough of Atobe. 

No great divides existed. 

And everything that Atobe wanted to hear was said with such clarity that his head spun for a good while. No one counted the minutes but the flavors that stayed was proof enough that something had been conquered. The curls of Atobe's midnight hair tickled Tezuka's chin as the wind blew quietly. Atobe felt the helplessness dissipate.

"You should have done that a long time ago" the vague irritation in Atobe's voice didn't escape Tezuka. 

"I was waiting for the right time and place."

Atobe smiled, amused "At the top of some obscure mountain in the middle of summer?"

"Yes."

"Why?" Atobe was somewhat mystified.

"No reason. I wanted to know what you'd see from here." Because to Tezuka, the future was just as wide and life was even wider. And he wanted to share one great adventure before Atobe forgot this for better, grander things. And no one, not even the stoic Seigaku captain wanted to be forgotten.

"I saw nothing new." Atobe said nonchalantly. "Hmn. I saw what I'd always seen." Atobe smiled haughtily.

"And what was that?" Tezuka challenged.

"You." And he pulled Tezuka for another kiss.

Finally, it dawned on Tezuka -- for all his inability to comprehend such things -- that Atobe had agreed to climb this mountain with him.


	6. Where It Belongs

he heir wanted the perfect design. He looked at his jeweler and pointed an elegant finger in his direction as if it would be enough for the man to procure that one perfect ring he had in his mind. The old man didn't want to lose his richest client and so he had his assistant open two more briefcases that held pieces that ranged from antique to post-modern in design. 

Atobe's eyes scanned the pieces and immediately saw something that caught his eye he picked it up, a thick band of pale gold; olive branch etched on the side, he turned it and looked at its interior as if to confirm something - a pained smile passed his lips. The young tennis consultant pocketed his keys as he let himself in the apartment he shared with one of Japan's favorite sons. Pushing up his glasses he proceeded to the kitchen where he found Atobe looking out the small window, a glass of wine in his hand.

The sound of a bag falling to the floor filtered through and Tezuka was by his side, leaning close for a hello kiss.

"I got you something." There was that hidden tremor of excitement in Tezuka's voice. Like a boy showing off a little treasure he had found. He went to his bag and got a small velvet box. He opened it and took out a band of gold, simple if not for the veins of amethyst and took Atobe's left hand - the band looked perfect upon his elegant finger. Silence followed soon after and Tezuka wondered if something was wrong did the design not sit well with the heir?

"Where's the ring you inherited from your grandfather?" Atobe asked quietly.

More silence. And then the heir reached inside his pocket and brought out a box -- flipped it open to show Tezuka the exact ring he had just asked about. "Na, Tezuka - why? You don't need to impress me, isn't it obvious that I'm already impressed?"

"I needed more money to get you the perfect ring. It's our first year together." Tezuka looked away, he felt silly in a way. And in his mind he asked just how Atobe had gotten the ring back.

"My jeweler is a very resourceful man." Atobe said, calmly plucking out the ring and taking Tezuka's hand. The ring seemed to come alive as it rested upon Tezuka's finger. The taller man was speechless and the heir knew that it had been a greater sacrifice to part with an heirloom.

"I love the ring you got me, Tezuka."

"And I love the one you got me. It's perfect." He never said things like that and Tezuka wondered if his cheeks were red, because they sure felt like they were burning.

"Sure it is." A smirk, then a smile painted the heir's lips. 

"It's back where it rightfully belongs."


	7. Anniversary

It was a question of who forgot and who remembered. Something so important to be left out in the cold and a few fragments of an explanation hanging between them. It was unlikely of Tezuka to remember and even more unlikely for Atobe to forget the latter being the stickler for dates and celebrations. But one too many late nights at the office and it was inevitable.

The tone Tezuka used before he stormed off was accusatory; to deviate from his usual monotone was something one could line with astounding or unusual. He was of course a man of memory but not nostalgia. Refuge came in form of a fallen tree, found on a hill that lined the outskirts of the city.

Atobe searched through avenues and backstreets, cursing under his breath that frosted in the pangs of October. He wondered with mild amusement that Tezuka was rather melodramatic and angst-ridden when he wanted to be. It was a recourse that gave spice to their otherwise tempered relationship. At that time he had wanted to tell the taller man to 'grow up'. 

Though, he had to find him first. 

The clue came in form of a girl in the park, shouting wildy at her mother. The lights from the mountains gave the city flair and the city fed off the skies. Atobe ran a hand through his hair and shook his head - Tezuka was a man of memory, he ran to his car and found that the road leading out of the city was wider, while the road leading in; narrow and convoluted.

Tezuka saw the sports car, before he saw Atobe - and he stood, indignant but glad. The brunette didn't smile, just helped his mate uphill in a subtle display of chivalry. They exchanged looks that spoke of apologies and forgiveness.

"Na, Tezuka, I really didn't mean to forget..."

"I know. I was out of line."

"Was there a point to it all?" Atobe smiled.

"Of course there is" Tezuka smiled back.

"Which is?"

"Staying together." 

It was the summary of his lesson learned.


	8. White Horse

Tezuka watched as Atobe paid last respects to his precious and loyal steed, Elizabeth. 

He could only imagine the grief, that the other felt having owned the white horse for most of his life. He could only imagine losing such unconditional friendship. The brunette had pets but then again Tosai Kohakus were cold blooded and not quite as endearing as a creature that you could hug, touch and take care of - hands on.

The heir had his hand over his eyes, Tezuka was unsure if he was crying or not so he respected his space and stood silently beside him. It was then that Atobe turned with reddened eyes and for once he asked the taller man what it was he was supposed to do. Tezuka had no inkling of heaven or hell. And the moment comprised only of the present.

"We all go to one place when we die. She just went ahead." Not the most awe-inspiring of words, but honest enough to make Atobe listen and nod. He pressed closer to his partner, shoulder to shoulder casting a final look at the mound behind him.

"I'll miss you, Elizabeth." 

Spoken softly from one friend to another.


	9. Heal Me

Ore-sama never got into freak accidents. No it simply was against the law of his very existence to succumb to reality's weird turns - so when a stray tennis ball hit his right eye, someone had to pay. The unfortunate fate of a group of sophomores who'd been standing by the ball machine was set. And yet he had gone home that day feeling no less upset and hurt.

By the time the in-house nurse was done with his eye, it was patched up beneath the bulky gauze and sticky feeling of ointment. It was by no means glamorous but then again beauty required sacrifices and if he had to endure this for a day or two then so be it.

It was weird having impaired vision, his right side almost nonexistent not unless he turned his head fully to see whatever it was that needed to be seen. Atobe sat quietly in his spacious family room, listening to Chopin's concerto for solo cello. He was close to lulled when a soft palm covered his left eye.

"I feel so sorry for the sophomores." The low voice induced an air of joy in Atobe, as he found identity within its tone.

"Is it you, Kunimitsu?" Difficult as it was to believe, it was a week night after all.

"Aa. I left school as soon as I heard." 

School nights be damned.

Atobe could feel himself healing already.


	10. Permit no shadows

They both stood outside the theme park called Wonderland, the lights of the said establishment, turned off and the mood obviously lacked life.

"Sorry" Tezuka started, wanting to throw rocks at the gate or kick the steel panel out of frustration.

"It's okay we can go back next time." Atobe smiled, his back resting on the side of their car.

"It's not okay." Tezuka felt the guilt. He had planned this, worked as best he could that day and still couldn't make it early enough to take his mate out and celebrate a joyous occasion. "We were going to ride the Ferris wheel." Together. First time. Promise. remained unsaid.

Atobe knew where the ache came from, he too was a busy man. And it moved him that promised dates meant much more to Tezuka, its celebration and meaning held close to heart. Tezuka turned and looked at his partner, Atobe holding up his mobile phone and made one quick phone call. And as he flipped his phone shut he asked -- 

"Does it really mean that much to you?"

"Yes. Because we promised." Tezuka answered simply.

It was then that the lights of Wonderland came to life one by one, behind Tezuka. The imminent theme park music filtered through and Tezuka slowly turned. 

"Because we promised." Atobe smiled, walking to Tezuka's side noting that the illuminated Ferris wheel began to turn. 

Wonderland seemed to glow and permitted no shadows.


	11. Domesticity

The air held tension so thick that you could slice it. The ominous air came about the apartment that Tezuka and Atobe lived in. The dreaded day had come once again - and both athletes were ready, both physically and mentally.

"Tezuka...on three..."

The other simply nodded his reply. And kept his eyes on their target. 

Hoshi, their yellow labrador - very smart creature indeed, eyed them both and tried to slink away from her 'mom' and 'dad' even if her size and bulk made it impossible to do so. Bath time was never an easy affair for this 'family'. And the day before, the huge canine left paw prints the size of Greenland on Atobe's French Louis the XIV carved armchair -- the heir wanted revenge. And what better way to do it than make Hoshi do something she hated doing the most.

"Atobe, don't let her get through the door!" Tezuka made a run for it and caught the dog squarely, even if he was dragged across the room. Atobe made a run for it, and met the dog head on. Bath time was inevitable.

"Gotcha...God you stink, Hoshi~!" Atobe snorted as he pinned Hoshi and half of Tezuka to the floor.


	12. Do cry for me

Atobe drove quietly and glanced at Tezuka time and again feeling a bit sheepish as the other shifted in the bucket seat uncomfortably. "Are you okay?" The heir eventually asked.

The taller man didn't actually know why or how Atobe convinced him to wear contact lenses that night. Then again Atobe had his ways. Tezuka just didn't count on the sheer discomfort of having something in his eyes, even if the label did say that it was acu-soft and 'barely-there'. "I'm not. I need to take them off."

It wasn't the wisest thing to do, but they were on their way out of Tokyo and traffic had bled thin when Atobe pulled his Porsche to stop on the side of semi-country road. "Let me. I'll do it." The heir shifted closer and reached up, elegant finger carefully holding Tezuka in place and then removing the contacts. "There all --"

Atobe stopped and watched as tears fell from Tezuka's eyes. The sight of it made the heir stop and simply, watch. For this may be the only time he'd see him cry. And damn, Kunimitsu looked 'pretty' doing so. 

Of course, they weren't real tears, Tezuka's eyes were just watery from the lenses. He looked at Atobe, confused. "What?"

Atobe snapped out of the trance. "Nothing" he reached into the glove compartment and gave Tezuka his glasses. "Here..." - another statement cut short as he was rewarded with a kiss.


	13. Never been

"How dare you!" Atobe almost slapped Tezuka and threw a leather-bound book at him.

The book hit Tezuka squarely on the gut, hard enough for him to wince. The book almost hit their dog, Hoshi (who was slouched on the floor, listening to her owners argue and not the least bothered by it) as it fell to the floor. 

Still confused as to why Atobe was so angry. "Look if you just tell me why you're mad..."

"You have the gall to ask why?! You two-timing son of a..." Atobe trailed off but shot daggers at Tezuka with his eyes. "You even had the gal to chronicle your feelings for that girl!"

Tezuka's eyes grew wide as saucers. Girl? What?

"I've never been in a relationship with a girl!"

"That diary of yours says otherwise!"

Diary? Tezuka blinked and a bit of clarity had begun to settle in. He picked the book up and showed Atobe. "It's not mine."

"It's yours. Initials and all, Kunimitsu --"

The taller boy flipped the book over and pointed to the gold-leaf set at the bottom. "Kuniharu Tezuka, year 1980, see?".

Atobe looked up surprised. "Wha..."

"He studied in Seigaku as well, same with my mom..." A smile threatened to form on the taller boy's lips.

"Oh...I..."

"You went through my things?" Tezuka questioned.

"NO~! I was simply fixing your things, now that we're living together...." Atobe trailed off "...but I do apologize for throwing the book at you..."

"That's okay." Tezuka placed the diary on top of the dresser and turned with a smug smile on his face. "You're going to kiss and make it better right?" He rubbed his midsection in exagerrated circles, laying on the guilt.

"Fine, Ore-sama will make it better...Hoshi! Out, out!" Atobe was sure his healing powers would work well without the dog in the room.


	14. Tricks of the heart, tricks of the mind

The first time he came to this city - he stayed in a small hotel just outside the affluent districts. What made the stay memorable was a solitary orange tree that grew inside an abandoned playground, it was a sad place where hues were gray and the swings, see-saws never moved -- stuck and tainted with the cavities of rust and age. 

He passed it everyday going to the office. He wondered absently what its fruit tasted like. 

Days became weeks - and weeks became months, next thing he realized it was the first day of October. It was then that he saw him - Atobe - who had just come out of a Vietnamese restaurant with some friends. A chance meeting that led to coffee and casual conversation. They talked of the of the past. 

They shared a handshake - that seemed endless. Atobe reels him in for a light hug. Then a kiss. If it tasted of anything it tasted of finality. Lost in a city and a time where they are other people entirely.

Tezuka walks home light as air after coffee. He feels a bit free. 

He snuck a glance at the orange tree and thought of picking its fruit to taste it. Only to find that at a second look it wasn't an orange after all and the scent of apples filled the air.


	15. I'll Never Forget You

Atobe knows how it is to woo people with grand gestures and exalting words that leaves one breathless with the knowledge - in that particular moment, no other person exists for him. Though, tonight there is none of those. No poetry or tuxedo-clad violinist bursting from the kitchen to play Polonaise for Tezuka. None at all...

There is a candle, two glasses of wine and a single flower draped over a folded note.

Atobe pushes the flower and the note to Tezuka's side of the table.

The other pockets the note and takes the flower. A rosen carnation.

"You will read it won't you?"

"Of course." 

And the taller boy leaves. He has a plane to catch in three hours.


	16. October

Tezuka keeps his diet pure and substabtial, either it's beef or chicken (white meat only) or vegetables. Living in a foreign country deigns one to live within the means offered by necessity and luck. That in itself is a strategy for survival.

He walks the streets and passes red postal boxes, green benches and red telephone booths.

It is cold and the store is just across the street.

Tezuka decides to have chicken for tonight. Chicken Masala. He notes that the spices are expensive and the preparation time insane. He bites down on personal rules and policies - takes the items needed one by one and a sprig or rosemary for garnishing.

It is October 4th.

He is a thousand miles away from home.

But he will celebrate a memory.

 

=

 

Atobe looks through the books lined in the poetry section of the store. There is an oddity about his visits to the store, a certain pleasure he gets from reading the names of the authors - no more and no less. He stops between Rimbaud and Rilke - smiles to himself and wonders which book Tezuka would pick if were there standing beside the heir.

"Probably Rilke..." Atobe whispers to himself - and so he takes the book to the cashier.

There are bokmarkers by the counter and all of them painted with flowers and stars and moon - something only Hallmark had the audacity to do. And so he decides on the Zinnia print and includes it in his purchase.

It is October 7th.

He will mail all these tomorrow.

Late is definitely better than never, he tells himself.


	17. Love you to death

Tezuka looks at the box resting against his door - he's pretty sure that there are flowers inside. He smiles a little knowing who they were from and takes time to fix his scarf before picking up the package. As usual no note, just who it's from.

Mrs. Rigby must have signed the receipt for him. One day he should send her a boquet as a form of thanks.

This weekly practice that Atobe does - either to woo or annoy him - has converted this drab studio into a colorful little place delightful to the senses. Though, he values these gifts he donates the blooms just as quickly to a nearby clinic because Tezuka knows if he does not - he will run out of space. Better to put such color to good use where a lot of people can see them. There are times when he gets confused with the varied hues and tones and wonders if what Atobe's trying to say's gotten lost in translation. 

Tezuka is expecting another batch of rainbow-like blooms but is surprised when he opens to find elegant, long-stemmed white roses in place of carnations and tulips and fire lilies. He takes one and examines it and notes that the petals are satin.

He takes a clear vase and fills it with water. He'll keep this bouquet because in the absence of all color - he can read what Atobe's trying to say. 

Clearly.


	18. Funerals and you and me

It's all the beginning of the end...

Atobe doesn't give much thought to these things, but did he not just attend a union last week? Now he's at a funeral of a friend, holding the most crimson of roses that it's almost black. He lays it softly on the metallic finish of the coffin before looking at the face of the departed.

The woman looks like she's sleeping - so the heir thinks that death might be painless.

He moves to look behind him when another rose finds its way beside his. And he blinks and knows that the look on his face is of pure surprise. "T-Tezuka..."

"I came home as soon as I heard. She's my mentor after all." London at the back of his mind.

Atobe says nothing but allows Tezuka to take his arm and lead him out to the church yard where they can talk or catch up or maybe just look at each other and get used to the fact that the other's really there. 

"When are you going back to London?" Atobe asks.

Tezuka answers with his own question "When are you going back to Japan?"

Neither wants to answer so they change the topic.

"Is it wrong to say that I'm happy to see you -- in such a circumstance?"

Tezuka shakes his head and a ghost of a smile on his lips. "I am happy too."

Atobe takes intiative to reach out and hold the taller man's hand and pockets his treasure. The afternoon air is cold and the iron bell begins to toll. 

"Shall we walk around the block?" Tezuka asks though his eyes are fixed on the other's shoulder.

"Sure." Atobe shrugs softly, he takes the first step.

 

=

 

"The skies are always gray here isn't it?" Atobe takes a sip of his favored Masala chai.

"At times there is sun. You know that." Tezuka breaks off a piece of raisin scones and nibbles it to nothing.

A few hours of walking and catching up with people at the funeral then walking some more - they find themselves in a small tea house and the skies are forgiving - no rain just clouds. "Where are you staying?" Atobe asks quietly.

"Hotel." Tezuka answers and sips his tea - Kenyan - bitter with a nutty aftertaste.

"I see."

"How about you?"

"My father owns a house in the heart of town."

And Tezuka thinks that the Atobe patriarch must be a romantic at heart - to purchase a house at the heart of the ultimate romantic himself - Shakespeare. Tezuka says nothing and just nods.

"It's got more than enough room..."

"Atobe..."

"Get a refund Tezuka...stay with me."

Tezuka finds it hard to lie to himself and even harder to resist the smile that goes with the offer. They walk out of the tea shop and move towards the intersection where Atobe's limousine is waiting. Their shoes make half-hearted noises over cobblestone. And Atobe vaguely points out slants of light in the sky. 

"Tezuka look..."

And Tezuka does so, taking off his glasses and squinting up to a pale blue sky. "I told you..."

Atobe lets it be, for once and does not argue the point.

 

=

 

Time gives back all that it's taken away. Happiness, opportunity, the past in itself miniscule to the present. Atobe would not have believed it, if he didn't feel that way at the moment. He turns to reach for his wrist watch so he can check the time -- it says 230 AM. 

"Stop hogging the covers." 

Atobe looks to his side and notes that Tezuka is adorable when he is half-aware and naked. And though the heir is tempted to feast his eyes on such a view - he covers him with the blanket and follows with an embrace - burying his chin in he crook of the other's neck. 

Like saying - I missed you... without really having to do so.

This is the present he tells himself -- and it's all he wants. All the other things -- good or bad -- counts as a memory.


	19. Twinkle, twinkle little star

"I told you I didn't want a dog. We already have pets."

"Kunimitsu!" Atobe covers the puppy's ears and looks at his mate threateningly. "Your fishes do not count as pets! They are cold blooded and you cannot hug or caress them."

"Don't you be talking about my Tosai Kohaku that way..." Tezuka glares at the heir.

"Fine. You don't want her. But I'm keeping her. This is my apartment too you know." Atobe storms off cradling the puppy and locks himself in the spare room.

 

*

 

They still aren't talking. Tezuka is a little guilty and hates that they are laying in bed with their backs to each other. He thinks that Atobe already has a pet - isn't Elizabeth a nine-foot proof of that?? He sighs and tries to sleep until he hears whimpering from the other room.

He gets up and checks on the puppy - it's just like Atobe to baby her and give her a room - though puppies sleep better when they were huddled against other puppies. Dogs are pack animals after all. The little tail wags as he stares down at her - wide brown eyes blinking up at him.

"Alright." Tezuka sighs and picks her up - and as soon as he rests her ears against his chest -- she calms down. 

The former Seigaku buchou looks from side to side and rolls his eyes before walking to the terrace, watching Tokyo's beautiful lights - like stars - though they twinkle in neon. A minute more and the puppy is sleeping soundly.

"Hey..." Atobe walks up behind his mate and siles at him. Tezuka smiles back - and it does not take rocket science to know that the argument from earler is over.

"Keigo..."

Atobe smiles a bit - sleep making his eyes a bit hazy. "Yeah?"

"Let's name her Hoshi."


	20. The past regrets

Atobe thinks he may come to regret granting Oshitari's request, has a feeling that things might change in the coming days...damn this insight. 

A rumor's going around in the Hyoutei Grapevine: Friendly tennis matches don't always turn out the way it should be when Tezuka Kunimitsu and Oshitari Yuushi are involved. Atobe realizes now that when it comes to certain things, Oshitari Yuushi can make stuff happen, Tezuka already viciously independent as it is.

The heir walks in to see how the game is panning out -- 

Two racquets lean against the chainlink fence,  
two untouched white towels rest on the bench,   
two unopened tennis bags rest side by side under the morning sun and   
two unopened Gatorade bottles stand neglected at the foot of the table. 

The door to the shower rooms are locked, had it been a public court, this would have been an issue; but it's one of many tennis courts that the Atobe family owned. Loaned to friends, in the name of skills and athletic development.


	21. Tea Leaf Fortune

"Tezuka, did you know that some people can read your fortune using the tea leaves left in your cup?" Atobe says absently, resting in the hammock that hangs in one side of the small backyard in the Tezuka household. The hammock has clear view of the Tosai Kohaku couple swimming in the small pond. 

"Really? I also heard that some people can do that using coffee granules."

"Greeks. The Greeks do that. But I think the English do it with tea leaves." 

A dismissive wave of his hand and then a lazy smile follows. The thing is, would one really like to know the future? Does it really matter if one knew? He decides that all of it depends on the circumstances, the thing at stake and the people involved. Some want to know the future when it comes to their level of success, while some are more concerned with matters of another kind.

"You lived in England, right? Read mine." One would mistake that as an order from the Seigaku Captain, but Atobe's long learned how to tell if Tezuka's being candid or not. "Read mine." And Tezuka hands Atobe the cup - drained of the bitter tea, leaving only some leaves and dried rice grains at the bottom.

"I didn't say I could do it!" It makes Atobe smile, Tezuka smiles in return. Not a happy smile but a smile that understands.

It's so rare and absurd that the heir cannot help but wonder if Tezuka has shown it to anyone else. Like Yuushi perhaps - does Yuushi know that Tezuka spends time with him as well? Even if it's not the same circumstances, he'd still like to know, would still like him to know.

Now, he wishes he could read tea-leaf fortune.


	22. Rain and luck

Tezuka's not against group studies and sessions involving quite a lot of people. He wasn't team captain because he was shy, after all. He agreed to meet up with a few people at a less popular coffee shop - rustic place located in a small street just outside the commercial complex. 

Even if the place isn't popular, the menu's a lot more pricey than Starbucks. The ambiance just perfect for things like writing, reading or group studies. 

When Tezuka arrives the first person he sees is Atobe, so Tezuka quietly moves past the glass door in order to greet his friend with a nod. There are three more chairs available but none of the others have arrived. He sets his laptop bag quietly on the other end of the table, being that Atobe's side's already cramped - Macbook, iPad, iPhone and a digital recorder. He wonders if Atobe needs all that?

He sees that Atobe's ordered some coffee for himself and Tezuka follows and asks for some tea. 

"Where are the others?" Atobe asks, a bit miffed because his time is precious.

"Oshitari said he'll be a little late." 

Atobe wonders if Tezuka knows how his tone changes when he says that name. He shifts a little and frowns. He reaches out and taps a key on his laptop so the low sound of music stops. "Yanagi? Inui?"

"They've got class until 8PM they'll be late."

Tezuka ponders but thinks that it isn't so bad if he asks about all the gadgets surrounding Atobe. In the end, curiosity wins out.

"Do you need all those in order to study?" He keeps himself busy by turning on his own computer and waiting for everything to boot up. His is not a fancy machine but it is a hard worker and by techie standards it's way up there. Adjusting his glasses just as his tea arrives; he takes a sip.

"I'm not here to study. This is a creative endeavor and these (pointing to all his gadgets) are my tools for the trade."

Tezuka looks at him funny...

"I'm doing NaNoWriMo, Ok!"

"Oh. Then you should have just said so." He takes another sip of his tea.

"Where in the world is ..." Atobe stops talking when he notices the savage downpour happening outside, the sound muffled and suppressed by the cafe's excellent interior. "Hold on..." Atobe gets his phone and calls Yuushi.

Tezuka on the other hand sits still and if he's worried about Yuushi getting caught in the rain, he does not show it at all. He only goes back to what he was typing on his computer.

"Yuushi's still home. He was about to leave when it started."

Relief washes over Tezuka's face.

Atobe feels like breaking something; his iPad perhaps?

"I told him I'd give you a ride home, though we should wait til this eases up a bit. I suppose the other two are not coming." Atobe says nonchalantly.

"Thank you. I suppose Inui and Yanagi are not coming anymore." Tezuka goes back to his tea and to the stuff he's typing.

 

*

 

"Hey, Tezuka..." Atobe reaches for his cooling coffee "What do you think? What should I write about?" Of course that's just him making small talk, because he's never really had a problem with deciding things for himself. External input is last priority and Atobe knows who or what he wants to write about.

"It's your piece..." He looks at Atobe evenly.

It's the kind of look that Atobe wants to preserve, bottle it up and hide it in the deepest corners of his mind. But he waves his hand absently instead. He picks out his digi-recorder and starts with stating who he is and the date afterwhich he recites a litany of ideas. Tezuka, more patient than people give him credit for, simply sits through this and nods at the ideas he likes and frowns at the ones he doesn't.

They don't realize the time - simply exchanging ideas here and there - Tezuka offering some helpful criticism as Atobe begins to build this little universe that he wants to write about. The next time Tezuka checks his watch it's almost 12 and the rain has stopped outside.

"Atobe..."

And the heir knows what Tezuka means so he stalls for more time.

"What about a group of teenage friends as warlocks, they are descendants of the guardians of the watch towers of North, East, South and West."

"I suppose that's not a bad idea..." Tezuka allows him to do that for some reason --

they talk way into the night, ordering thirds or seconds of cups of both coffee and tea.


	23. Sunday, Easy

It was an unexpected call to say the least, but if Tezuka wants him to keep him company then Atobe would not deny the other of his awesome presence. It would be one of his many acts of kindness to show his appreciation of Tezuka's prowess on the courts. 

In all the years that they've known one another, the heir had been privy to many of the Seigaku Buchou's hobbies and quirks - things tucked away from everyone on his team, carefully hidden even from Oishi Shuichirou. Atobe would like to avoid calling it a secret friendship. That in itself would be more than an insult to his amazing existence. So in his head he labelled it as: A Higher Understanding.

That felt better. He smiled a little as he got down from his limo and walked the short distance from car to the gates of the Tezuka household. He was already thinking of things that they might be doing today: listen to Wagner or talk about the latest fishing equipments and trends or watch the Wimbledon replays. 

He's already waiting under the shade of the entryway and he stands up and walks to Atobe when he sees him. Atobe is surprised to see Tezuka dressed to go out. "Where are we going?"

"Sorry to call you out but I have a practical test Sunday morning..tomorrow."

"Alright..."

"I need to buy ingredients for the dish my group is making."

"You're the shopper?!" Atobe asks incredulous, familiat with Home Economics and all, but not used to NOT being the leader of his group. "Why are you not the leader of your group?"

"I am the leader. The person assigned just got sick so I have to take over."

"And you called me?"

"I am not familiar with all the ingredients."

Atobe looks a little suspicious but relents, backing away so Tezuka could exit and they could walk from his house to a nearby grocery. The heir glances at the Seigaku Captain who looks at peace and comfortable as they walk. Atobe could only guess it's because they look normal. As a matter-of-fact whenever he visits Tezuka -he- of all people feels normal, doing ordinary things. It's a passing experience, nothing extraordinary, but finds that he misses it when he isn't able to find the time to visit because of some prior engagement. Their shoulders bump and Atobe looks up

"Show me the grocery list."

"Here."

The heir reads through it as they walk, stopping only to wait for the grocery doors to slide open and wait for Tezuka to get a cart. Not once does he look up from the sheet he's holding. Insight tells him that Tezuka's group is making Southern Fried Chicken.

"Tezuka go to isle 4, let's start with the dairy products..."

"Alright."

"Ah there, I see Buttermilk, we'll need two cartons."


	24. Goodnight, good guy

"Say, for instance, I can confess to you. That it's okay for me to confess certain things and no friendships will be lost and that the world will continue moving after the fact. Because I do have a lot to say, but you probably know that much already."

Atobe deletes the words and trashes this email. The email he's rewritten many times yet fails to send anyway.

He gets up and picks up a Diet Coke from his ref before sitting back down and staring at the screen and types up the words before giving up on it and smashes his fist on the surface of the desk. What would Yuushi do? He'd like to know because Yuushi won didn't he? He won in a way that he can't really comprehend unless Atobe gives him less credit that he's due. 

If Yuushi has eyes that see beyond the icy-force-field that Atobe's constructed around him.

"What would you do..." Atobe begins "If I told you I like you."

Then he tries to imagine Tezuka's serious face, the way it would twitch with disapproval, the way he would begin to say the words revoking his friendship and not wanting to hang out with Atobe anymore. The Heir closes his eyes and presses delete. He doesn't even have to see the button to do so.

 

*

half-way around the world, only not, still in Tokyo --

Tezuka sits in front of his computer, ignoring the cooling tea that rests in a mug on his desk. He sits there and imagines an email coming in - saying all the things that shouldn't be said, but he'd like to read anyway. He imagines it being direct to the point, the kind that breaks through all the barriers, knocks down friendships and steals hearts. But of course, no email comes in and it's already midnight.

He turns off his computer in time for his cellphone to take a message.

"See you tomorrow. Just the two of us."

It's not the email he imagined, but at least, this is real: he sends an affirmative.

 

*

 

"Usual place. Goodnight, Kunimitsu."

"Goodnight, Yuushi."


	25. I am your favorite illusion

Sometimes his arm would hurt real bad to the point that he'd have to force himself to lay in bed until the pain passes over. Sometimes his arm would hurt in the most inopportune time - when in the company of others, when enjoying a conversation, when passing a quiet afternoon with Atobe Keigo. 

Tezuka is careful not to show it, careful to hide away the little things that might betray what he is feeling. Tezuka will either go completely silent or launch into careful nods when Atobe is pointing out a specific matter in conversation. The Seigaku Captain is not really sure why he does this - maybe it had a lot to do with pride and sensitivity. He would not want Atobe to see that this was the total damage. It was no one's fault after all. A conscious decision to lead by example simply because there was nothing, nothing else to be.

When Tezuka's arm is in pain he makes sure not to let Atobe rough him around. They are teenage boys; bumps and bruises come naturally, so does carefree behavior. He makes sure that he keeps the hurting arm away because he knows that Atobe will not understand the limitations of someone that's just a little bit broken. 

It's just that...Atobe can tell.

Sometimes Tezuka's arm will fail him when they are out on the courts in mock battle or when eating out after practice. Sometimes when they go out fishing he will see Tezuka pull back, purse his lips in the straightest line and then look up. Like in prayer, asking for a bit more time. These were the times that Atobe will push him more - to get passed the pain and the awareness of pain. There are no limitations, no frontiers for pioneers like them. For it was 'them' that got here in a place that allows them to be friends and rivals and confidants. He knows when Tezuka is holding him at arm's length - he will always know.

"What's that?" Tezuka says, suspiciously looking at the tall glass placed in front of him.

They are at the Atobe mansion in Tokyo - Atobe insisted that they listen to music. He was in the mood for Tchaikovsky, for something revolutionary and defiant. They agreed to meet here because Atobe insists that he owns the best audiophile room in the country and it was simply 'a different experience' than just using their iPods. And so Tezuka finds himself seated in one of the armchairs while he imagines the Bolsheviks marching to the music.

"Don't look at the drink like it's evil, it's just a Cocanilla Boo. And, yes, Tezuka it's got some alcohol in it. Live a little."

"Something tropical while we listen to the music of a really cold country..."

"It's a good contrast, or else we might freeze from the inside out."

It makes Tezuka smile a little. "What are you having?"

"The same." Atobe shows him his glass, playfully pushing it to Tezuka's left arm.

The wince gives it away, Atobe doesn't avert his gaze, just watches Tezuka until he looks okay again. Then the heir moves and sets his glass on one of the tables and snatches the remote and then everything in the room goes silent. His expensive audio equipment seemed lifeless under the soft glow of mood lights. Atobe makes it a show - the way he confidently walks to the grand piano at the back of the room, the way he looks back and asks Tezuka to sit beside him.

Upon sitting down - Tezuka instinctively touches the ivory keys without really knowing how to properly play them. But Atobe begins to play a song that sounds uncomplicated, simple, pop-ish. By example, the heir is showing him the keys, the succession. "It's a simple song, you'll learn it in no time. I like it a lot."

Tezuka thinks that he can, but even moving his fingers is daunting. Not that he'd ever show it because he mimics Atobe as soon as the heir gives him the opportunity to do so. Atobe watches every movement of bone and muscle that struggles against Tezuka's skin as he plays.

"You don't have to hide it from me. I will always know." Atobe says.

Tezuka keeps at it, trying to get the keys right "How would you know..."

Atobe's fingers are light on Tezuka's as he stops him from playing the piano, eyes serious 

"Because I was there too. With you."

**Author's Note:**

> The fics were written from 2006 to 2008. 
> 
> I suddenly feel old, but I love the thought of Tezuka and Atobe together.


End file.
